


Weathertop

by that_one_kid



Series: Lack of Adult Supervision (Camp Counselor AU) [11]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, My poor idiot boys, Nazgul are scary, badass arwen, get in trouble, the river spirits get some help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 15:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21358306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_kid/pseuds/that_one_kid
Summary: The Riders are on them once again. Will the four friends fall to the Nazgul, or will they make a daring escape?
Series: Lack of Adult Supervision (Camp Counselor AU) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1463752
Kudos: 18





	Weathertop

**Author's Note:**

> See end note for trigger warnings.

“I’m hungry,” Pippin whispered. Merry, looking warily around the forest, just shushed him. Pippin sighed. Merry was a great partner in crime, but he had always been a little too cautious. It took the fun out of bad decisions if you spent the whole time worrying about them. Frodo, ahead of him, stifled a yawn. 

“Why don’t we take a break?” Pippin asked, just loudly enough for Frodo and Sam to hear. “We can sit down for a few minutes, get a snack.” Sam’s head turned back at the last. 

“Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked. “I do have some snacks in my backpack.” Frodo looked torn, but eventually nodded. 

“Okay, yeah. Let’s take a break here.” They sat down, and Sam pulled a Tupperware container full of chicken and mashed potatoes out of his backpack. Pippin openly stared at it. Sam blushed. 

“I’m friends with Mr. Bombadil, the cook,” he said as an explanation. “Sometimes he packs me lunches.” 

“Did you tell him we were leaving?” Frodo asked sharply. Sam shook his head energetically. 

“Of course not, Mr. Frodo! This was just on my bed when we got back.” 

“Odd,” said Merry, but no one else was too inclined to wonder with the delicious food in front of them. The four boys quickly devoured the food. Pippin sat back with a full stomach and feeling much better than before. Even Merry’s tight expression had relaxed somewhat.

“All right, Pippin,” he whispered. “I suppose that was a good idea,”

“‘Course it was,” Pippin said smugly. Then he paused. “Do you hear something?” Merry went pale. 

“Hoofbeats,” he whispered, and then a horse burst out of the trees. It was a massive, black horse, and Pippin flinched backward, rolling onto his back. Merry was lying next to him. But the rider, like before, in a black hoodie and dark jeans, ignored them. Instead, he wheeled his horse to face Frodo and Sam, who'd scrambled across the clearing. 

“What?” Pippin whispered. Sam jumped in front of Frodo, whirling his brick in a pillowcase. 

“Hey!” Merry yelled from beside Pippin. “Over here!” He threw a stone with his usual accuracy, and it bounced off of the rider’s shoulder. The horse snorted, but the rider didn’t even react. More hoofbeats, and an identical horse and rider galloped up from behind Frodo and Sam. 

“How many _are_ there?” Pippin muttered, and picked up a rock. 

“Hey!” Merry yelled again, and they both hurled their weapons at the riders. Again, no effect. They were walking their horses in slow, eerie circles around Sam and Frodo. Frodo stumbled and fell, and Sam bent to help him up, eyes still on the riders. Then, more hoofbeats. 

“No,” Merry hissed, but the horse that came charging forwards was not massive and black. This one was chestnut, its muscles gleaming in the faint light from Frodo’s dropped flashlight. The rider was not an ominously hooded figure, but instead a familiar face. 

“Arwen!” Pippin yelled, but she didn’t hesitate. She rode straight at the riders circling Frodo. The closer rider whirled at her approach, but she held up something small like she was banishing him. There was a faint hiss, and then the rider screamed - a thin, unearthly wail - and his horse reared back. 

The circle broken, Arwen easily scooped Frodo up onto her horse. Sam scrambled up behind him, and the remaining rider lunged at her horse. She shouted something in an unfamiliar language and swung a vicious punch at the rider. It knocked him back only a little, but she took the chance to ride past him unharmed. 

“Run!” Arwen shouted, holding Frodo tightly. He didn’t seem like he could stay on the horse himself. “To the river!” Pippin and Merry whirled as one and bolted for the river. Arwen, aiming the tiny object back towards the riders, followed at a trot. They got to the suspended bridge across the small ravine separating Camp River Dale from the grounds of ISC. The swaying of the bridge was a common fear of the local campers, but Merry and Pippin sprinted across without a second thought.

Pippin looked back and gasped. Arwen, face grim and hands tight on her reins, was riding her horse across the bridge at a fast canter. Frodo was leaning to one side in her grasp, and Sam was clinging to her waist as the bridge swayed and bent in terrifying, sudden movements. As soon as her horse cleared the bridge, Arwen slid down with Frodo still in her arms and set him gently on the ground.

She drew her knife from her belt, and immediately started sawing through the ropes holding the bridge. As the first rider got to the edge of the bridge, the rope snapped. The rider hesitated, and Arwen snapped a second rope. The bridge swung free on one side, any chance of crossing on horseback lost for good. The rider screamed something and Pippin felt goosebumps rise on his arm. Another rope swung free, and the two riders paced back and forth at the edge. Then Arwen snapped one last rope, and the bridge swung down into the ravine. The two hooded figures froze, and then rode off. 

“I totally see why Aragorn has a crush on you,” Pippin blurted, although Arwen didn’t seem to notice. 

“What-” Merry started to ask, but Arwen shushed him. 

“They’ll find the way around,” she said, with a glare across the ravine, and turned with concern to Frodo. Sam had pulled him into his lap, and was trying to wake him up. 

“Mr. Frodo?” he asked, softly. “Mr. Frodo?” 

“What happened?” Arwen asked, kneeling beside them. 

“He backed up and stepped in a rabbit hole,” Sam said, looking stricken. “It sounded really bad. Then he fell down.” 

“He may have broken his ankle,” Arwen said. “He needs to go to my father. Why aren’t you already at the caves?” Pippin, thinking quickly, interrupted Sam’s explanation. 

“Why aren’t you?” he asked. Her calm expression flickered. 

“When you weren’t at the camp, your counselors came after you. We haven’t been able to reach them. I came to try to find them, and you.” 

“Oh,” Pippin said faintly. 

“Why were you out here?” Arwen asked again. 

“Frodo said Saruman is Snapchat friends with Sauron,” Merry confessed. “We were going to find his phone and use it to track Sauron so the police could catch him.” Arwen went pale. 

“Gandalf has gone to talk to Saruman,” she said faintly. “Don’t worry, he’ll get it all sorted out. For now, I have to get you back to the caves.” 

“Wait, but does Gandalf know that Saruman is bad?” Pippin asked. Arwen didn’t answer, just lifted Frodo back onto the horse. 

“Sam, can you ride a horse?” she asked. Sam nodded, clambering up behind Frodo. “Then you two, ride ahead to the Caves. Asfaloth knows the way,” Sam gripped Frodo tightly, and Arwen released the reins and the horse leapt off. 

“What will we do?” Merry asked. Arwen patted him on the shoulder. 

“We’ll walk back to my camp, and get horses there. I’m sure you two are too tired to walk all the way back.” Relieved, Pippin nodded eagerly. A smile broke through Arwen’s tired, worried expression and she squeezed his shoulder gently. “It’ll be all right.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: Joint injury, children in danger, child with an injury, unconscious children, heights


End file.
